Stories of Calsi'o

Two people from the Department of Telepathic Regulation and Control investigate a murder committed by an unidentified mind controller. Two street kids hunt pigeons on the streets, not knowing that they will have to leave what meager lives they have for a world entirely alien. A telepathic boy struggles with the school bully, who is himself abused. An empath gives up her ability to follow in her parents' footsteps. And a Rememberer dreams of a strange world of dragons and magic, far from the orderly psychoscientific powers of Calsi'o and the Cities.
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Chapters:

The communications terminal clanged with a priority message, and
William Foxkin jabbed the accept button before some computer
system halfway across the City decided to take more drastic
action against his ears. "Telepathic regulation and control,
Foxkin speaking."

"It's Cathi. You won't believe what happened today." His
secretary sounded worried, and William wondered with sudden dread
what could have shaken her like this. As the silence stretched
on, he prompted her with a quiet, "What?"

She continued tonelessly. "The Patrol found the seventh target -
the one who called himself 'the Outsider'. They found him on the
streets" - she paused, probably to look at some readout on her
desk - "two hours and eleven minutes ago... and 'the Outsider' is
exactly who he was. Mr. Foxkin..." Her voice broke again, but she
continued as if her life depended on it - "...he's a regular. The
Patrol's psychic energy monitors have been all over him, and they
say he's lacking in native power traces."

Even through the shock, WIlliam caught her wording. "You mean the
sniffers found someone else's Gift on him?"

"I mean exactly that. First-form telepathic contol, no less, and
whoever did it left marks that should have identified him or her
immediately. However, the observed frequencies are nothing like
any of the telepaths in our databases, and that's something we
keep completely organized. It's as clear as a purpose-taken
fingerprint, but that doesn't help if he - or she - isn't in
records."

"Why haven't we asked this 'Outsider' person? The teams had over
two hours with the man, and no one can resist us that long, much
less a regular." He slammed the desk with his hand in sheer
frustration. "We've been looking for this man for two years,
Cathi, and all we've gotten is more questions. Now we have him,
and I want answers!"

Cathi was having trouble speaking, the words sticking in her
throat. "I'm afraid you don't understand, sir," she said
evenly.
I should be home by now. I just have to finish this report. Then
I can get off this endless adrenaline high and drug myself to
sleep.
"The teams," she forced out, "have had two hours with a dead
man."

William sat back hard in his chair, feeling as if he had been
punched in the stomach. "The controller killed him?"

"That's what the sniffers say, and General Intelligence concurs.
I get the feeling Intel is actually pretty annoyed that they
didn't figure it out ahead of time. I don't see how they could
have. I mean, would you have guessed, without evidence one way or
the other, that Seventh was a regular? And knowing only that he
was killed by telepathic control, you would have to think of a
rogue without orders from us, or the Underground kicking up a
mess, not something completely foreign."

"I can understand why you would think that way, but intelligence
analysts tend to blame themselves for not thinking far enough
outside the box when a genuinely off-the-charts result comes
along. Of course, this tendency leads them to be blamed by others
for suggesting precautions against something that will never
happen. They are justified... occasionally... when the
aforementioned unlikely threat actually does turn out
dangerous... and that's the kind of triple-think that they are
burdened with every day of their lives."

Her head spun. "It's a wonder anyone ever gets useful information
out of any of them!"

"I'm not convinced we do, Cathi," he said bitterly. "I'm not
convinced we do."